Glory and Love
by fabfan
Summary: Love and Hate. Glory and Despair. Life and Death. It all began with a single shot in 1861. An AU Historical Story.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Glory and Love  
Pairing: Frankie/Bianca  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters (just imagine if I did)  
Summary: Love and Hate. Glory and Despair. Life and Death. It all began with a single shot in 1861. An AU Historical Story.

Note: Hi everyone! Here is my next multi-chapter FAB story. I was shuffling back and forth between a few ideas for what my next story idea would be, but I ended up choosing this one. We've been celebrating the 150th anniversary of the event that takes place in the fic, so what better time to put this one out there, right? I hope you like it. It's a bit like my other stories yet it has its differences. Let me know what you think!

* * *

Bianca's strong sigh silently reverberated throughout the quaint home. Her eyes, a deep hypnotizing shade of brown, blinked up at one of the open windows that lined the wall of the parlor. The bright midmorning sun streaked in along with the refreshingly cool summer breeze. She could faintly hear the clacking of horse hooves and the creak of carriage wheels along the road the windows faced. No doubt it was another busy day in Philadelphia. If she closed her eyes and imagined, she could picture the many familiar faces of her neighborhood, everyone going about their normal day. Mrs. Thompson would be walking home from the market, a steaming loaf of bread in one hand and a gaggle of newly purchased bonnets in the other. Mr. and Mrs. Fredrickson would be taking their routine lunchtime stroll together. Among them, the many tradesmen and laborers would be careening down the road in their bountiful carts and wagons, some shouting out their wares while others loaded and unloaded their items for eager buyers. Intermingled with them, the residents of her rather upperclass neighborhood would turn their noses up at most of the dirty workers while secretly glancing at what they had to sell.

Just another normal day in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Bianca came out of her thoughts and peeked down at her hands. Yes, just another day. Her hands automatically began moving again. The gentle clang of the metal sticks filled the room, and her slim fingers plucked at the radiant red tinged thread wrapped around them, manipulating it into the design she envisioned in her mind. The quilt was coming along nicely. She was near half way done. Only a week or so more and she would be finished. Which only meant a different collection of colored strings would meet her knitting needles as she started a new project. Perhaps another quilt or something for the autumn which was fast approaching. A scarf or pair of mittens.

She unconsciously looped the string around the sticks, not even needing to pay attention to what she was doing anymore. She had been knitting all her life. As soon as she was old enough to hold the sticks without dropping them, she had been taught to sit and create. When she went to school, that was even one of the classes she attended. Such was the life of a woman.

Bianca sighed again. It wasn't that she disliked knitting. It could be enjoyable, and it gave her something to do when there was nothing else. But, it could be...tedious. Her entire life could be that way. Filled with knitting, tea luncheons, and gossip, her life was exactly the same as every other woman in the city. It was how her sister Kendall's life was. Well, it was that way until Kendall met Mr. Zachary Slater. Now, planned supervised meetings with him were fit into that daily plan...along with a few illicit excursions. Bianca smiled to herself as she recalled once catching Kendall sneaking out of the house. Her sister could be quite agile and brilliant, but attempting to climb out of her window onto the ash tree beside her window was not one of her better ideas. She'd ended up hanging upside down with the skirts of her dress tangled in a tree branch. If anyone else had been awake that night and looking out at the Montgomery home, they would have been met with the sight of a cursing curly haired woman swinging back and forth with her arms flailing and her undergarments exposed to the world.

Bianca's smile fell as her mind turned to the next woman in her family. Her mother Erica. Bianca loved her mother. Erica loved Bianca. Bianca hated going to all the neighbors' homes for tea everyday. Erica loved to go, gossip, and showoff her new dress or brag about her son's latest endeavor. Thus, Bianca and Erica didn't see quite eye to eye with each other. Bianca tended to keep her mouth shut and trail after her larger than life parent. There wasn't much she could do. A single woman seventeen years of age was under her parents' control until she met a fine young man to whom she would marry. So, until she met some man who her parents deemed fit for their daughter, Bianca was stuck tagging along on one tea session after another.

Speaking of young men, she knew her mother had been semi-secretly setting about to find her a suitable husband. Bianca bit her lip at the concept. Marriage? Of course she would love to be married. To raise a family and live a happy life with someone she loved. There was only one problem. She had yet to meet any man who even put a sparkle in her eye. From her understanding, there was supposed to be butterflies in her belly and a racing heart in her chest whenever she was with the person she was meant to be with. She had never felt anything like that with any man. Thank goodness her father was not pushing her to pursue any courtships. Many fathers would be encouraging their daughter to get married by now, whether or not there was blinding love. Not Jackson Montgomery, though. He once told Bianca that he wanted her to be happy and to marry the person she loved with all her heart. She deserved no less than that. He stuck to his word and continued to support her.

Certainly, that left her brother, and the final member of their family, without much to do. Joshua always declared whoever wanted to marry his little sister would have to be approved by him. He had yet to exact any form of his self-appointed job. Instead, he tended to flit around town. Sometimes he would be with his friends talking and doing whatever it was boys do. Other times he would be shadowing their father, learning the business of railroads.

With Joshua out doing only God knows what, Kendall and Erica at the market buying a new dress for her next meeting with Zach, and Jackson at his office, Bianca was alone in the home. It was pleasant having the place to herself. It was quiet. Not how the household normally was. Usually she would be basking in the moments of solitude.

Not this time, however.

How could she bask when she knew what she was going to be subjected to the minute her mother returned home?

The needles stopped clicking as Bianca stilled her hands. She chewed on her bottom lip, barely holding back the frown. Today she was to accompany Erica to tea. No surprise there. But, this day they were to have tea at the Chandlers'. Bianca despised having to go to the Chandlers'. All Erica did was try to one-up Mrs. Chandler. Which wasn't very difficult considering Mrs. Chandler had only been in Philadelphia for a year and among the upper crust of society even less. Bianca hated watching the show her mother put on. Bianca didn't see why it was so important to be better than everyone else. People were people. They shouldn't judge a person because of how much money they possessed or where they grew up. If anything, it should be on the soul of the person. Of course, not many people agreed with Bianca on that. Her mother had only clicked her tongue and patted her hand, telling her she'd learn when she fully entered the world. Having been alive for seventeen years, Bianca was pretty sure she had entered the world. She just didn't see it the same way as her mother did.

There was also the fact that going to the Chandlers' meant sitting down for hours on end with Mrs. Chandler's daughter Arabella. Arabella was...nice...but she was not the smartest human ever born. Bianca could stand her for a few minutes, but hours was torture. Arabella would go on and on about topics that would make even the most trained tea-goer's head ache. Bianca also got a funny feeling whenever she was with Arabella. It was like something was not right with her, that she should be wary of her. Arabella had never done anything to warrant such a feeling, but it persisted. It made Bianca uncomfortable whenever she had to go over there for tea.

So, Bianca did not have much excitement for what lay ahead that day.

Setting the knitting sticks down on the table beside her chair, Bianca stretched her fingers. She gazed around the parlor. It was small but cozy. The fireplace remained unlit, the summer weather making it too hot for any sort of fire. Above it sat the family portrait. The painted faces peered down at her with warm acceptance and welcome. It was her favorite painting in the world. She loved her family, and the painting always reminded her of how wonderful they were together. Her eyes ticked over to the window again. It was such a nice day out. Too bad she would be spending it indoors.

Wait.

Her eyes narrowed in confusion.

What was that?

Bianca leaned forward in her chair, her hands coming to rest on the tops of her cotton covered knees. She would have sworn she saw something in the window. The brunette shook her head. It was probably a reflection from a passing carriage. Moving to sit back, a flash of yellow startled her. She sat up straighter, her eyes widening. She had seen something in the window! But, what could it be?

Cautiously, Bianca stood up. She held her breath, hoping to hear anything that would give her a clue as to what was outside. With her eyes firmly planted on the window, she crept forward. The wooden floorboards creaked slightly, but she ignored them, focussed only on what was outside.

As she picked her left foot up to take another step, a sinister laugh bellowed eerily from the window. Bianca froze, her foot hanging in the air. Her eyes darted around, seeing nothing that would have done that. Her breath hitched in her throat.

What could it be?

Then, a deep baritone voice called out, "Bianca...Bianca Montgomery..."

Bianca set her foot down and frowned. She recognized that voice. Well, she more recognized how that voice said her name.

There was the faint sound of jostling, then the voice spoke again, "Bianca Montgomery...I am here to haunt you..."

Bianca's shoulders un-tightened and her body relaxed as the sound of fervent whispers reached her ears. She rolled her eyes and grinned. She knew exactly who that voice belonged to.

"Bianca..." it spoke again, and the figure of a person flickered across the window, like a phantom flying by. Or, a joking person jumping from one side to the other.

Shaking her head in amusement, Bianca went to the front door and pulled it open. She stepped out onto the front porch and looked down the side of the home. She was greeted with the sight of two women, both identical in features, but nowhere near so in temperament. One stood off to the side, her arms crossed and a hip jutted out as she disapprovingly watched her twin gleefully hop around the window. The other twin fought to hold in her snickers as she hid on one side of the glass pane. Her blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight, unlike her sister's which was covered by a bonnet. She cleared her throat and dropped her normal voice down to a menacing pitch, "Bianca..."

"Is right here." Bianca cut in. She chuckled as both girls whirled around.

"Bianca!" the twin closest to her exclaimed. She walked up to her, a look of exasperation coating her features, "I am so sorry for my...sister's...antics."

"It's quite alright, Maggie." Bianca offered her friend a smile.

Maggie rolled her eyes, "It's childish and immature."

"Yet completely fun." the twin bounded up to them, confidence in her gait. She smirked charmingly at Bianca, and the brunette felt her own smile deepen, "Good day, Ms. Montgomery."

"Good day, Ms. Stone."

Frances pointed over her shoulder at the window, "Seems you have a terrible case of ghosts. I was attempting to dispel them when you arrived."

Maggie rolled her eyes again as Bianca laughed, "Oh? Is that what that was? For a moment I thought it was someone trying to scare me."

"Scare you? Who would ever want to do such a thing?" Frances stepped up beside her sister.

"I am not sure. Perhaps you would know of a person or two?"

Frances made a show of thinking about it. She tapped her finger against her chin and hummed, "No, I cannot think of a single person who would ever want to do such a thing to you. Maggie, perhaps, but you? Never."

Bianca bit her lip to hold in another laugh as Maggie glared at her twin. The Stones were always a source of amusement, and being her best friends, she could always count on them to be there for her.

Maggie turned her attention back to Bianca after giving her sister a scathing look, "How are you today, Bianca?"

"Well, and you?"

"Good. We are both doing well." Maggie answered.

"How are your cousin and his wife?" Bianca asked, referring to David and Anna Hayward. The two had taken in the twins when they were little, raising them as their own.

"They are fine as well." Maggie responded. "And your family?"

"Well, thank you."

"Why, I do believe everyone seems to be fine and well." Frances interjected.

Maggie sighed, "Please, ignore my sister. She doesn't seem to know the meaning of manners."

"I do." Frances shrugged, "But there's no need to be so formal about everything."

Maggie spoke again, "Bianca, my sister and I have come over to ask you something."

"Yes?"

Before Maggie could say something, Frances cut in, "My sister wishes to invite you over for tea this afternoon. However, I think we should take a walk instead."

"A walk?"

Maggie said, "Tea is a wonderful way to spend the afternoon, Frances."

Frances shot back, "It's much too fine of a day to be cooped up inside drinking hot water and pretending to care about what Mrs. Peterson bought at the market today. Stop being such a stick in the mud and forget about tea for once."

"Maybe Bianca would like to have tea."

Two sets of hazel eyes turned to Bianca.

Frances took a step closer to Bianca, and her voice imperceptibly softened a fraction, "Would you like to take a walk with us?"

Bianca found herself staring into Frances's eyes, and she felt a tingling in her belly. Her head began to move up and down in a nod, and she replied, "Yes, I would love to take a walk with you."

Frances beamed at her, not even attempting to smother her happiness, "Splendid. We can go for a stroll up to the market, if you'd like."

"That sounds nice."

Maggie adjusted her bonnet, "You do not have any other prior engagements, do you?"

Tea with the Chandlers or walking with the Stones? She should not go. It was not proper. Bianca's eyes danced as they took in the cheerful grin on Frances's face, "Not at all." Her mother would have to do without her for one day.

"Fantastic," Frances gestured with her arm for Bianca to go ahead of her onto the sidewalk, "after you." She briefly turned her face to Maggie, "Come on, Maggie, have a bit of change in your life. We can sip tea another day."

Maggie rolled her eyes at her sister and followed the two, quickly catching up to them.

* * *

"It is your birthday next week." Bianca said.

Maggie and Frances nodded, each taking up one side of Bianca. "We will be eighteen." Maggie added, "The party will be so much fun."

Bianca peeked over at Frances who scowled slightly. Throughout the years it'd been proven that Frances Stone was not one for parties. She hated them. Bianca nudged her side, "There'll be cake."

Frances rolled her eyes but the scowl fell away, "Yes, along with a whole lot of people who don't even like or know us, fluffy uncomfortable dresses, and dull chatter."

"It won't be that bad." Bianca nudged her again, "And, I'll be there to keep you company."

Frances ducked her head down at that and mumbled, "I suppose it won't be all bad."

The two glanced over at each other, and their eyes locked for a moment. Bianca could feel the gentle swirl of delight in her chest that glimmered in the hazel orbs. It seemed like the world disappeared for a second, and all Bianca could see were those warm eyes.

"After we turn eighteen, I will be one step closer to finishing my studies." Maggie's voice cut in. Bianca blinked as the world reappeared, and she turned to look at the bonnet adorning blonde. Maggie had been studying medicine, her goal to become a nurse or midwife one day.

"And one step closer to my finally being rid of you." Frances jested, no malice in her words.

Maggie scoffed, "We both know you would be heartbroken if I ever left you. Who would willingly volunteer to aid in your many unconscionable plans?"

Frances swallowed, "While I would miss your ability to tell me when I am wrong, I could find someone else to be my partner."

Bianca couldn't help but peer out of the corner of her eye at Frances. Frances's head was facing forward, but Bianca would swear she was looking at her as well.

"Bianca, do not let my sister coerce you into any sort of scheme she thinks up." Maggie said. "She may be smart, and I love her, but her plans are never as brilliant as they seem to be."

Frances smirked, "My sister is just upset she cannot devise as great of plans as I do. Remember who wanted to take a walk and who wanted to have tea."

Bianca would admit the walk was lovely. The sun warmed her skin, and the cool breeze caressed her face. It was fun to walk with the Stones, listening to their banter while taking in the sights of the bustling streets.

"I can devise plans just fine. Mine only don't tend to include jumping off a bridge or running alongside a fast moving carriage."

"The bridge was barely ten feet off the ground."

"It was higher than that and you know it!"

"The plan worked, didn't it?"

"Only because I stepped in and..."

Bianca listened to the twins. She did not know what she would ever do without her best friends in her life. Thank goodness they were able to meet. She had met them when they first arrived in Philadelphia. Their cousin David had introduced them to the littlest Montgomery, and the three had been friends ever since.

The trio turned a corner, the twins still bickering back and forth. Their words died down as Frances looked down the block, "Well, look. It's your brother Joshua and my sister's future husband Mr. Martin."

Bianca tapped Frances's shoulder and shot her a warning look as Maggie huffed, "Mr. Martin is a friend, Frances. Why must you always say something like that?"

"Because it's true?" Frankie replied.

Bianca shot her another look, and Frances's mouth snapped shut. She shrugged sheepishly at the brunette, but Bianca didn't miss the wicked gleam in her eyes. "Be nice, Frances. James Martin is a friend of the family. He is a good friend to your sister."

Frances raised an eyebrow at her.

"Thank you." Maggie said.

Bianca leaned in closer to Frances and lowered her voice, "Do not tease Maggie so much about James."

"Perhaps if they acted on their feelings instead of pretending they don't exist, I would not push her so much." Frances shot back.

"Give them time, Frances. Not everyone can see what is right in front of them."

"You know as well as I do they belong together."

"Yes, but it is not our place to make them see that."

Frances sighed, "Fine." She pointed at the two men, "Let's go say hello. I've been meaning to ask Joshua about that ghost at Bianca and his home."

"There is no ghost." Bianca crossed her arms.

"So you say." Frances winked.

The three women strolled up to the men. Joshua and James smiled when they caught sight of the girls. "Bianca, hiding from mother, I see." Joshua joked as he lightly embraced his sister.

"As you are of father." Bianca answered.

"Hello, Ms. Stone." James stared adoringly at Maggie.

"Hello, Mr. Martin." Maggie blushed at his gaze. The two unconsciously stepped closer to each other, forming their own little bubble away from the others.

"Frances." Joshua nodded, "How are you today? Keeping my sister away from her commitments?"

"Don't I always?" Frances answered. "And you? Win any bets today?"

Joshua chuckled, "Not nearly enough. I was about to get James to go with me to place a few bets, but I see he's been temporarily taken now."

"There is nothing temporary about it." Frances snickered. "Where are you placing the bets?"

"Near the courthouse. There's a big card game to be starting there shortly."

Frances shrugged, "I'd be willing to go with you."

Joshua paused, intrigued with the idea, "Hmmm."

Bianca grasped Frances's arm, "No you will not."

"Why not?" Frances frowned.

Bianca stared at her, "We do not gamble." Gambling was an activity for men. Women did not play cards like that, if at all.

"I see nothing wrong with it." Frances made to escape Bianca's hold, but the hand on her arm tightened, anticipating the move.

Joshua sighed, "There goes my playing partner. Bianca is right, that is no place for a woman." He turned away from them when he spotted another man he knew, "Excuse me, I might have found someone else I can take."

Frances watched him go with a frown, "It is just cards, Bianca."

"You can't go and play cards with my brother. You know this."

"It's stupid. It is only a game of cards."

Bianca bit her lip and tugged Frances closer to her, "It is not only a game of cards."

Frances looked up at her, "Nothing was going to happen to me."

Bianca shook her head, her hand dropping down to wrap around the blonde's wrist, "You do not know that. Where he is talking is no place for us. And the rumors that will be spoken about you..."

"I hear enough of this from my sister. I do not need to hear it from you too."

The edges of Bianca's mouth turned down. It was no secret Frances never truly enjoyed the life she was given. It was a good life, filled with prestige and comfort. But, Frances always was drawn to the things she was not allowed to do. She hated having to knit and sit for tea. She was happy being outside, talking with Joshua or James about the railroads or getting into trouble with another crazy plan. Bianca knew without a doubt her friend was destined for great things. She was meant to be more than what everyone told them they were meant to become. If only the world would agree.

Bianca whispered gently, "I know that. I do. But, please, for me. Don't make me worry about you. I already do that enough without actually seeing all the crazy things you do."

Frances scuffed the toe of her shoe against the dusty road, "I do not mean to make you worry."

"I know, but I do anyway. I will always worry about you." Bianca squeezed her wrist, "Do what makes you happy. I want you to be happy, Frances. But I beg you, be careful."

Frances stared at the hand clasped to her wrist. She swallowed thickly and lifted her eyes to Bianca's. Bianca felt something bolt through her at the look. The air rapidly left her lungs in a gasp. Frances's voice was soft as a cloud, "I don't know what that is."

"You'll find it."

* * *

A few days later, Bianca was walking down the sidewalk. Her dress rustled at her feet, the basket filled to the brim with bread and vegetables hanging from her arm. Her mother had been furious that she missed tea with the Chandlers, but had gotten over it when Bianca promised to accompany her the next time. This day Bianca volunteered to go to the market for her mother. Erica was pleased to be allowed to stay indoors for a few more hours where she could better plan the perfect outfit for her meeting with Mrs. Andrews that evening.

Turning the corner, Bianca stopped in her tracks. She couldn't suppress the widening of her eyes or the teeth glimmering smile that broke out. She also couldn't stop her feet from surging forward or the way her body thrummed. She knew that figure and that gait. The shape of the person down the road was none other than a Stone. The tiny frame couldn't belong to anyone else but one of the twins. By the almost cocky stroll and wild hair that could only be achieved by lack of a bonnet or hat, Bianca knew it was Frances. She sped down the walk, balancing the basket as best she could so as not to lose the whole lot of food on her race. The Hayward-Stone home was near the end of the block. Frances must be returning home from wherever she had been that morning. Bianca briefly wondered what the girl had been up to when she finally was near enough to see her.

She gasped loudly.

Frankie was covered from head to toe in mud and dirt. Her dress was stained brown and streaks of mud caked her face. Bianca dropped the basket, not even noticing as the vegetables rolled into the street, "Frances!"

The blonde's head whipped around to see her, and a smile appeared on the brown face, "Bianca, hello!"

"What happened?" Bianca ran up to her. She grabbed Frankie's arms, looking her over for injuries.

"I am fine. Don't worry. I was visiting Edmund's farm, and I was struck by the idea that I wanted to learn to ride a horse."

"Why on earth would you think that?" This was such a Frances way of life. Out of the blue having the idea to do something and doing it without thinking it through.

"It would be something valuable to know. Besides, it could be fun."

Bianca reached for Frances's face and cradled it in her palms, "Fun? You could have been killed. Why would you need to know that? Everyone uses carriages."

"I liked it. It made me happy."

Bianca worried her bottom lip. Of course something like this would make Frances happy, "Getting yourself thrown off a horse was not what I meant when I said do what makes you happy."

"What did you mean?"

What did she mean? She wanted Frances to do what made her happy, but that usually meant something like this. Frances was a wild spirit, letting her emotions run her life and not caring what others thought. "I also said to not make me worry."

Frances grinned, "I only got thrown off once. I am getting better at it. Edmund said I could go out again."

Bianca knew she should continue to scold her. This was dangerous. But, the grin on the blonde's face melted whatever hard feelings Bianca had inside. It always did that. It was a reason Bianca worried but could never be overly mad at the other girl. That one grin brightened up the darkest skies in Bianca's mind.

"Maybe after I learn, I could teach you?"

"Perhaps." Her ride a horse?

"Perhaps? Come on, Bianca. I know you'd like it too." Frances winked, "Whenever you are supposed to go see Arabelle Chandler, I can ride in and save you now."

Bianca rubbed the dirt stains on Frances's cheeks with the pad of her thumb, "Save me?"

"Of course. I'll be your hero. Your knight in shining armor."

Bianca laughed lightly and blushed, "My knight in mud stained armor."

The sound of a door smashing open startled the two. Bianca looked over to see Maggie tripping down the steps of the Hayward-Stone porch, her face red with fury, "Frances! What did you do!"

Bianca's hands dropped from Frances's face but she didn't step back as Maggie skidding up beside them. Frances look at her sister, "I believe I fell into a mud puddle, dear sister."

Maggie tapped her foot and crossed her arms, "Did you break your head, too?"

Frances shrugged, "If I did, the mud probably filled it back up."

"A head full of mud. That is my sister."

Frances smirked, "Better mud than nothing at all."

Maggie shook a finger at her, "You could have been hurt or worse! Why must you always do things like this? David and Anna provide us with a good home and education, and you go out and do things like this. You are going to get yourself killed one of these days, and I am not going to let you!"

Frances looked at Bianca, "My sister does not approve."

"No she does not!" Maggie shouted.

"Maggie," Bianca soothed, "Frances was only trying to learn something new."

Maggie watched as a few people walked by, their eyes staring disapprovingly at her sister, "She can learn French. She can learn medicine. Instead, she's out making a mockery of herself."

"A very entertaining mockery." Frances shot back.

"Frances." Bianca warned.

Frances sighed, "Maggie, will you please stop yelling at me?"

Maggie huffed, "Will you stop doing crazy things?"

"Probably not."

Maggie pursed her lips and stared at her sister doused in mud and dirt. She tried not to, but a tiny smile appeared. Frances did look hilarious like that.

Bianca tugged at the sleeve of Frances's dress, "Let's go inside and get you cleaned. Then, some tea perhaps?" She snickered at Frances's reaction to the mention of tea. "Frances can tell us all about how she flew off a horse for the very first time." She started to lead Frances up to the porch, Maggie in front of them.

Just another normal day.


	2. Chapter 2

"Did you see her? Did you?"

"Covered in mud. Pure filth."

"I cannot even imagine what would cause such a thing. Well, I cannot imagine anything respectable."

"Respectable? Since when has that girl been respectable?"

"I feel for the family. They have tried so hard, but there is nothing that can de done for people like her."

"I'm surprised the Montgomerys allow their daughter to befriend her. They are much better than that."

"Have you seen her this evening? Has not even danced once with a suitor? Of course, she most likely does not have many if any at all. Not many young men would be attracted to someone so..."

"Intelligent?" David cut in casually.

The group turned to look at him, mixed looks of embarrassment and horror on their six faces. David stood proudly before them, his face calm but his eyes as hard as stone. He looked at each of their faces, taking a moment to study every one. Anna, his wife, stood at his side. Her lips were pinched together and she glared at the three couples.

"Or perhaps you meant to say beautiful or honorable. I would go so far as to say respectable, but it seems some of you might not be inclined to understand the meaning of the word." David continued. He took a tiny step closer to them, his large frame giving off a sense of intimidation. "For I do not believe it is _respectable_ to be conversing about one of the birthday girls in any manner other than joyful and decent at their own celebration."

One of the men in the group opened his mouth as a few dropped their heads in humiliation. "Now, see here Mr. Hayward."

"I do believe my husband has been very clear." Anna interrupted the man. Her eyes flashed with barely concealed anger, "This is Frances and Margaret's birthday party. If you, for whatever reason, are unable to properly celebrate such a happy occasion with our cousins, I suggest you leave now. Neither I nor my husband will tolerate such talk about our family."

"Certainly not. I will gladly escort you to the door if you continue on with your line of conversation." David added. He loomed over the group, a scowl forming on his face.

"We apologize, Mr. Hayward...Mrs. Hayward." another man spoke up. He nodded at them. "We meant no harm by our talk. We were only speaking of a few incidences we heard about concerning young Frances. We thank you for your hospitality and congratulate you on raising two women of such...respectability."

"Thank you, Mr. Fredrickson." Anna accepted his words with a tight smile.

"You're welcome." he turned to his wife. "I shall get you some punch now."

"I will join you." she took his arm and they walked away.

The rest of the group soon dispersed, warily eyeing their host as they ambled off. David watched them go, gritting his teeth at the sight. When the last one had disappeared into the mass of people in the room, he felt a hand on his lower arm. He looked over to see Anna peering up at him with loving eyes. "What is it?" David asked, his scowl softening slightly.

"You make an excellent father."

David's shoulders dropped, "Not a father, a cousin." They had never been able to have children of their own. When the twins landed on their doorstep, it had been like a gift from the heavens. The two girls might not be his true daughters, but he saw them as such and raised them as he would if he and Anna gave birth to them.

"People will talk, David. They've done so for years."

David bristled, "There is nothing to it but rumors and lies."

Anna gave him a look.

Well," he amended, "most of it." He grasped her hand and wrapped it more firmly around his arm, "Frances is only discovering what this life means to her. I will never discourage that."

"I know. I love you for that." Anna allowed him to lead her away from the spot. "I hate hearing any person talk about them like that. Especially at their birthday party. I will never accept or tolerate such behavior. But, we cannot be blind to the fact that the city has never quite fully appreciated our cousin's eccentricities."

David nodded at a passing couple as he replied, "Frances and Margaret have grown into fine young women. Margaret will soon finish her studies..."

"Which many in town had been confused over and spoke about." Anna cut in. "Not many women pursue their education so openly and fervently as she has." And not many people believed a woman's place was anywhere outside of the hearth and home.

David brushed his hand over the fingers wrapped around his arm, "Frances will find whatever it is she is looking for. I am certain the moment she truly discovers what she wants of this life, she will settle down and not act so eccentric."

"I agree." Anna glanced up at him. Then, she gave his side a light nudge and tilted her chin toward the center of the room. "Margaret, however, has already figured out whom she wants in her life."

David followed her line of vision and was met with the sight of Maggie standing near the middle of the room. James Martin stood in front of her, his hands hanging limply at his sides as he smiled gently at her. People mingled around them, laughing and gossiping, but from their viewpoint, it seemed neither James or Maggie seemed to even notice the world existed outside of the two of them.

David frowned, "Maybe we should go over there and introduced ourselves to Mr. Martin."

Anna lightly slapped his arm, "We will do no such thing. James has already met us countless times, and Margaret would be embarrassed if we marched in like an army into their conversation."

David sighed and allowed his frown to fade away, "Then, I suppose we must continue our duties as host and hostess of the evening."

Anna nodded, "Lead on, Mr. Hayward."

* * *

Across the room, Maggie stood next to James. She nervously smoothed down the skirts of her heavy dress, the lace and velvet scratching imperceptibly against her palms and fingers. Her longer blonde hair was twisted and pinned to the top of her head, a few curls falling to frame her cheerful face. James twitched with his jacket and collar, his smile nervous and adoring.

"It is a lovely party." James complimented, his eyes sweeping the room for only a second before landed back on Maggie's.

"Thank you. My cousins are very generous." Maggie felt her smile grow at his look. She couldn't help it. Whenever she was near him she was smiling.

"David and Anna are very nice." he agreed. He cleared his throat, "Where is your sister?"

Maggie daintily bit her lip, "I am not sure."

"It is not an important matter. I was hoping to be able to see _you_." his eyes widened as it registered in his mind what he had just said. "Not that there is anything wrong with your sister...I just...there is..." he fumbled along.

Maggie bent her head, unsuccessfully hiding her blush.

James took a deep breath and paused for a moment before starting again, "I find you to be a wonderful person, Maggie. I like you."

Maggie took her own deep breath, the shock at his statement churning in her belly as euphoria surged through her veins, "I like you too, James."

James's teeth glimmered in the light as he smiled as widely as he could, "Truly?"

Maggie nodded and finally looked back up at him. Her face glowed, "Yes."

James bounced giddily before hesitantly offering his arm, "Would you give me the honor of this dance, Ms. Stone?"

Maggie looked at his arm for a second before taking it, "Of course, Mr. Martin," she beamed. He carefully led her to the center of the room where a few other couples were dancing to the small band that played from one end of the room.

* * *

Bianca caught sight of Maggie and James as she moved around the side of the room. She smiled to herself at the sight and silently wished them luck. She knew they would be wonderful together. The two cared for each other deeply, and James Martin was a good man. He would take care of her friend. Now, with this dance, perhaps the young couple had finally admitted their mutual attraction and would pursue a courtship. Frances would stop attempting to tease and embarrass her sister, then.

Bianca's smile grew. No, Frances would never stop doing that. She would find something else to tease Maggie with. It was just Frances's way. Both Maggie and Bianca had long ago accepted the amount of humor and fun the girl possessed. Her jesting was never meant to be malicious. It was all delivered with care.

Speaking of Frances, Bianca had not seen her all night. Oh, she so hoped Frances had not gotten into any form of trouble. While she supported the blonde's inherent need for adventure and risk, her worry never went away. No matter how many times Frances told her not to worry, she would never stop. It was part of their relationship. Frances would go out and do something, and Bianca would worry. However, much to Bianca's relief, Frances would always find her and prove she was alright. She would always return to her.

Stepping close to the door that led outside, Bianca peeked out the window next to it. A shadowy figure stood near the road. Bianca stopped moving and gazed out the glass pane. The figure didn't move. It just stood there, staring out into the dark night. After a moment of watching, Bianca swiftly moved to the door and slipped outside.

The cool evening air wrapped around her like a comforting blanket, soothing away the blistering heat that had surrounded her within the building. She carefully tread over to the figure, being cautious of errant holes and slick mud splotches. When she was a few feet away from the figure, the person spoke up, "What are you doing out here?"

Bianca hiked her skirts up a bit higher, not wanting to dirty them too much and thus face the wrath of her mother, "That is the question I should be asking you, isn't it?"

Frances turned around, hazel orbs landing on the stumbling girl. She rushed forward, gently taking one of Bianca's arms in her hands. "Careful, there is a slippery spot here." she mumbled, her hands guiding Bianca around the path and to safety.

"Thank you." Bianca sent her a grateful smile.

Frances accepted the look and offered her own tiny crooked grin. The two gazed at each other for a moment. Bianca let her eyes roam the familiar face. She never knew how people could not tell the twins apart. They were so different. Frances's skin was of a slightly darker color, having been outside more whereas Maggie stayed tucked in with her books and knitting needles. Where Maggie's eyes were filled with friendly care and a touch of humor and brilliance, Frances's swirled with so many different things Bianca could never pinpoint what exactly she was faced with. France's hazel orbs changed day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute. They could be mirthful and practically laughing along with their owner. They could be intense and hypnotizing. Fiery and angry. Intelligent and calculating. Or, like they were now, soft and almost...tender.

Bianca felt her chest hitch as she continued to gaze at Frances. She could not say how long they stood there for, but time seemingly evaporated and left the two of them alone with nothing but the summer breeze and the faint chirping of crickets to accompany them. Bianca unconsciously leaned closer to Frances, their sides and arms pressing together. Frances had yet to release her arm, her fingers absently caressing the sleeved skin.

The rumbling of a carriage as it passed by jolted the two out of their shared haze, and they both blinked at the sudden change. Frances quickly released Bianca's arm and stepped back. Bianca noticed her eyes change, some of the tenderness dropping away, but not enough that it disappeared completely. To fill the void, a sense of concern appeared. "Are you alright? Is there a reason you left the party?"

Bianca shook her head at the questions, "I am fine. I left to find you. Why aren't you at the party? It is for your birthday."

Frances rolled her eyes and gestured at her frilly dress, "And be seen in public like this?"

"I think you look beautiful." fell from Bianca's lips before she could even think about a response.

Frances ducked her head and grinned, "You're beautiful, Bianca. I'm..."

"You are beautiful, Frances." Bianca touched the tips of her fingers to a ruffled shoulder. She tilted her head to catch the blonde's eyes, "But, I also do know you have never much cared for this sort of attire."

"It's bulky and uncomfortable." she groused.

Bianca giggled at the cute pout. "It is not so bad."

"Yes, it is." Frances lifted her hand. "Not on you, perhaps. You look absolutely splendid. I, however, feel like a complete fool. I am wearing a dress that weighs more than me and shuffle around like some...jester at court." she held her arms out and mockingly waddled in a circle.

Bianca chuckled, "You do not."

"You only say so because you are my friend and are required to be complimentary to me." Frances's eyes twinkled in the starlight. "I know the truth, though, dear Bianca. The truth is these dresses are terrible."

"They are fashionable."

"According to who?"

"Society?" Bianca shrugged.

Frances rolled her eyes again, "Society is nothing to be listened to. I think they only make people like me wear such a travesty because it brings humor to their lives."

"Maybe. Or, maybe we like to torture you, Ms. Stone."

"Ah, I knew there was something sinister about you." Frances wagged a finger at her playfully.

"Yes, you have caught me. I, too, am one of these society people you despise." Bianca jokingly clutched at her chest.

Frances's grin flickered, "I must be in trouble then, because I find it impossible to despise you."

Bianca's heart thundered against her hand, "The feeling is mutual, Frances."

The air grew still as the two women stared at each other. Bianca gasped, her body reacting to the powerful spark in the air. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end much like they would during a lightning storm. She watched as Frances's throat bobbed with a thick swallow, and the corners of the twin's eyes crinkled with emotion.

The sound of a screaming horse pierced the night sky, and the wheels of a cart thundered. Frances whipped her head around to see a wagon racing down the road. She rushed to Bianca and grabbed her arms, pushing her to the side and away from the road. The wagon sped wildly forward, weaving about and looking for all the world like it was led by a runaway horse. Frances caught sight of the driver, though, as the wagon spun to the side, crashing to a halt near the building the party was taking place in.

"What is this? You could have killed us!" Frances shouted at the driver, her words blazing with fury.

Bianca clung to Frances's back, holding the older girl back in case the kicking horse decided to take off again. The brunette vowed to throw Frances out of the way if any such thing happened. She would not let her friend get hurt.

The driver jumped off the wagon, his face white as snow. Fear. It was plastered all over his body. Fear and excitement. "They've done it! It's started!" he cried

"Done what?" Frances yelled. "Who?"

"That damn south! They've done it now!"

"The south?" Bianca whispered. She felt Frances shift as she called out, "Done what?"

"War!" the driver ran toward the building, "War's been declared!"

Bianca's heart skipped a beat as Frances stiffened. Her mind whirled as she tried to make sense of all this. War? With the south? How? What? She knew there had been issues with the southern states. It had been part of the daily talk for years on the streets of Philadelphia if not the entire north. But war? Bianca was brought out of her musings as the body in front of her moved away. She watched Frances begin to dart toward the building, "Frances!"

Frances peered over her shoulder, "War, Bianca!"

Bianca felt a chill go through her at the pure excitement in those two words.

* * *

Frances dashed into the party. The music had stopped playing and everyone was talking loudly to each other. The messenger stood in the dead center of the room, regaling all who would listen to his tale. His arms waved crazily and his eyes were practically leaping out of their sockets.

Swiveling around, Frances searched for a familiar face. It took a moment, the crowds hovering together and speaking so loudly it was difficult to make out any one face. But, there in the corner, she saw Joshua and James. Without pause she sprinted over to them, her skirts licking at her boots and threatening to trip her in her haste. She paid no mind to them, though, her mind firmly focused on what was being said.

"The damn bastards are fools for even thinking of doing this." Joshua said. He waved the glass in his hand, the dark liquid sloshing up the sides, "Damn fools."

"How can they leave the country? Are they not one of us?" James asked, his brows knit in confusion.

"Not anymore. Traitors." Joshua sipped his liquor.

Frances skidded to a halt beside them, the trio instantly forming a small circle, "Is it true?"

Joshua glanced over at her, "War's been declared. Lincoln plans to teach those cotton-pickers a lesson."

Frances felt like her body was going to explode with all the thoughts and feelings coursing through her, "Of course he'll win. How could the south even believe for a moment they would be able to win?"

Joshua shrugged as James shook his head, "All of this for slavery. They want to divide our country because of slaves."

Joshua snorted, "I've told you how to fix this mess. I've said time and time again. They should all be sent back to where they came from. Those negroes should all be packed onto a ship and sailed back to Africa or wherever it is they call home."

James frowned, "I don't see how they have to leave."

"As long as they're here, slavery will persist, and these southern fools will think they should succeed from the union!" Joshua gestured.

James shook his head, "No, slavery will die on it's own. As long as we keep the new states from becoming slave states, it'll end eventually. There is no need to fight."

Frances listened as the two men went back and forth. She had to agree with both of them. As long as the south had slaves, they'd keep arguing, but it would be very difficult to just send them to Africa. "I think it's a shame to force someone to do what they don't want to." She never saw how a person could be owned. A human should be allowed to do as they pleased.

"Agreed." James nodded with a friendly smile.

"But, I do not know what to do about it." Frances added. There were a variety of ideas drifting around the city for years about what should be done in regards to the slavery problem. Frances had listened to each one, but didn't know which one was right.

Joshua drank another swallow, "Well, it doesn't matter now, does it? We're at war."

"Is it all about slaves?" Frances asked.

James answered, "It's about these people wanting to leave the union. That's not right."

Frances nodded along. War. It sounded so exhilarating. Images of uniforms and columns of marching soldiers flashed in her mind. Row after row of shiny polished uniforms marching down the streets, the beating of drums and the whistling of flutes creating a chorus of victory as hundreds of people lined the streets to see them pass by. People would weep at the sight of them, shouting their adoration and admiration with unconcealed vigor. She imagined sleek stallions standing tall on the field of battle, bullets flying and smoke drifting around the horsemen as they waved their swords, urging their troops forward.

"I don't give a damn about freeing anybody. They can have their slaves. We cannot let them think they can leave the union without a fight. This is our country, and nothing will tear it apart." Joshua growled. "My grandfather fought for independence."

"As did mine." James nodded.

Frances spoke up, "Our army will defeat them."

"Hear hear." Joshua raised his glass, "A few scattered rebels will not hold a candle to our military."

Bianca's voice cut through the chatter, "Frances, there you are!"

Frances turned to see the pale girl step up to her side, "Bianca, have you heard?"

Bianca nodded sadly, "It's terrible news. I've been looking all over for you."

Frances peeked at the two men, "I've been discussing it with Joshua and James."

"Discussing it?" Bianca narrowed her eyes, "What is there to discuss?"

"Everything, Bianca." Frances shook her hand in the air, "War! Think of it."

"I am." that word sent a terrifying fear through her body. Nothing good ever came from war.

"Have you all heard?" Maggie's voice joined in. She sidled up next to her sister, her gaze landing on James. "I cannot believe it."

James looked uncomfortable at the sudden appearance, "Perhaps we should talk about something else."

"Something else?" Frances exclaimed, "War has been declared, James! Troops will be going into battle. Has the president asked for any volunteers?"

Joshua nodded, "He has..."

"But, this is not a proper discussion for...um...ladies such as yourselves." James interrupted.

"Ladies such as ourselves?" Maggie asked.

"War is not something to concern yourselves with." James explained. He looked to Joshua for help.

"He is right. War is meant for men. This is not an issue for women." Joshua agreed.

Frances frowned, "You are not serious?"

"Yes, we are." James looked at Joshua again.

Bianca crossed her arms. She might not like the sound of war at all, but this was important, "Joshua, James, this is our country, too. This is our home. If something such as war will affect it, it does concern us."

"The war will be over in a few days. A few months at the most." Joshua waved off her statement.

"You were talking about it with Frances." Maggie glared at James.

"Yes...well..." he cleared his throat, "Punch, anyone?"

Bianca shook her head and peered over at Frances, confused at why the other girl was being so quiet. The shimmer in her eyes made Bianca's stomach clench painfully.


	3. Chapter 3

Thunder rumbled, signaling the approach of a distant storm. The air was electric, the hairs on the back of Bianca's neck standing on end. The wind had grown stronger over the last few weeks, picking up with even more intensity that morning. The temperature had been steadily dropping, and it was cold enough that the seventeen year old had wrapped a carefully knitted shawl around her shoulders even though she was still indoors.

Bianca glanced at the set of teacups and saucers. They sat patiently on the tea tray along with the tea kettle and spoons. She knew the once hot liquid had become cold, never once being touched since it was brought from the kitchen and set down. But, she could not find it within herself to care all that much. There were so many other things to think about...worry about.

"I cannot believe this is happening." Maggie whispered, a tiny crack making her voice quiver.

Bianca peered over at her friend. The older girl sat daintily in her chair. She briefly reminded Bianca of the small birds that perched on the windowsill each morning and sang a mournful song. Maggie's eyes were downcast. Her face seemed to have grown thinner overnight. Her lips drooped in a frown.

"His father encouraged him. He was proud of James." Maggie continued.

"Joshua accompanied him." Bianca spoke softly. "They both volunteered together."

It had been both a sorrowful and joyous day. Ever since the city had heard the news of the declaration of war, it had been abuzz with activity. Every street corner was taken over by people trading stories and whispered rumors. The newspapers battled each other for readers, giving out tiny bits and pieces of information each day. When a recruiter arrived, many of the men jumped at the chance to volunteer for the army.

Two of those men were James and Joshua.

"James keeps saying it'll be over quickly. That it will not last long at all." Maggie pinched her lips together.

Bianca nodded. That was something the city, if not the entire north, had agreed upon. A few rebels were no match for the superiority of the federal government and her military. The war would be over as soon as the canons roared and the bullets flew. Bianca was not so sure she agreed with them. While she was by no means an expert on the military or fighting, she had a scary feeling it was not to be as easy as it seemed.

"They will be home soon." Bianca soothed her friend, even though her mind screamed that this might not be true.

Maggie peeked up at her for a second, "James knows nothing about war or the army."

"Neither does Joshua, but they'll learn." Bianca couldn't ignore the movement that passed in the corner of her eye. She tilted her head to see Frances pacing back and forth in front of the empty fireplace. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she was nibbling on the tip of her thumb. That always was a sign that the twin was deep in thought. Bianca could practically hear the wheels of wonder turning in the blonde's head. Bianca couldn't be certain what she was thinking about, but she had a very good idea.

She took a moment to watch Frances. Bianca's gaze roamed the olive hued face, serious with concentration. Frances moved back and forth with vigor, barely reaching the end of her chosen path before abruptly doing an about-face and marching back the other way. A trickle of something Bianca couldn't describe swept through her veins at the sight of the other girl. She didn't know what to call it, but it made her mouth curl up into a smile and her breathing become more shallow. However, no matter how much she smiled or how many times her skin tingled at the sight of her, an ever present feeling of dread had slowly formed in the pit of her stomach. It may have been weeks since the news of war, but Bianca did not forget the excitement that took over her friend. Since that day, Frances had been filled with enthusiasm. It was unlike anything Bianca had ever seen before. Frances had her hobbies and interests, of course. Bianca loved to hear her tales of what she got up to. Usually they ended with Bianca bemused and shaking her head at Frances's antics. There was worry, of course. There always would be with her, but Bianca took pleasure in hearing her friend's happiness. Just like now, she was happy that Frances was so enthused. The glee in her face as she spoke was contagious, and Bianca couldn't help but be glad for it.

It was what that glee was over that caused the dread to swell at times.

Bianca quickly looked at Maggie, who was rubbing the lace of the skirt of her dress between her thumb and forefinger while she contemplated what was going to happen, before gazing back at Frances. Frances had yet to say a word that day. She had quietly greeted Bianca when the Stones arrived at her door for tea, but that had been it. Maggie was upset at the news of James's enlistment, and Bianca immediately went about trying to console her. Frances had darted over to the fireplace and began her restless pacing. She hadn't said a word since, only glancing once in a while at her sister and friend.

"James is honorable and brave for joining. I know he has done the right thing." Maggie sighed. "But, I wish he hadn't."

"Why ever not?" Frances finally spoke, her words ringing in the air like a fire bell.

Bianca's eyes widened and Maggie stared at her, "What did you say?"

Frances leaned against the wall near the fireplace. She looked at both of them, her eyes dancing with excitement, "This is one of the greatest things either James or Joshua has ever done. I only wish I had gone with them and volunteered myself."

Bianca felt the burn of ice cold fear take over her body. Her limbs froze. Her heart stopped beating, and her lungs refused to take in air. The dread that was slowly bubbling in the pit of her belly exploded and overflowed, mixing with the abject terror that turned her blood to ice. The world turned dark and faded away. All she could hear, all she could see was Frankie uttering those words - _gone and volunteered myself_.

Maggie glared incredulously at Frances, "Why would you ever say such a thing?"

"Because it is true." Frances pushed away from the wall. "Maggie, this is wonderful."

"Wonderful?" Maggie cut in. "This is not wonderful, Frances. This is war."

"Precisely." Frances waved her arms, unable to hold in her emotion, "Think of it. The glory of battle...waving a gleaming sword as you defeat the villainous rebels...the tears of joy and admiration as the soldiers march down the road through towns, all the people crying out to see you and praise you."

Maggie's mouth fell open in shock.

Bianca couldn't move. Every cell in her body was terrified at what she was hearing. Frances's words were like hits to her body, puncturing her fragile hope and peace like stabs from a knife. She felt like she was drowning in a frozen river, the pain making her stomach churn.

"Frances," Maggie finally spoke after a second, "soldiers die."

Frances grinned crookedly, "What a way to die. What a way to be remembered. Fighting against the traitors. Surging across a battlefield. I'm sure they'd write poems about it."

"Frances, no." Maggie shook her head, "No."

Frances moved closer to her, "Imagine, Maggie. Just imagine. This war will only last a few months. Not near enough time for me to die. I'd get to wear the uniform...I'd shine like gold in the sun with those brass buttons. I could be a hero. I'd even get to see some of this country. We'd march out...or maybe even ride. That would be much better. Riding a great stallion into battle. When I return home, I'd have so many things to tell you all. So many things you'd be proud of me for. The whole city would cheer my return."

"You can't. It's not safe, Frances." Maggie glared at her. "It is bad enough with James and Joshua leaving, I do not want to hear about this from you."

"I think it'd be a fantastic adventure." Frances was so full of energy she bounced in place. "I'd return as a hero. Can you imagine?"

"No, I cannot." Maggie frowned. "Women cannot join the army. Even if they could, I do not want you to. Think of what David and Anna would say."

"I believe they would be proud of me for volunteering to serve our country." Frances answered.

"You are volunteering to gain some sense of glory." Maggie shot back scathingly.

"Can I not have both?" Frances shrugged. She flashed a charming grin, "Glory I could bring home. Glory that will live on forever. Picture it. The sparkle of the sword. The gleam of the polished uniform. I'd be hailed for my bravery. Everyone would be proud of me." Her eyes ticked to the side, landing on Bianca, "Everyone."

Bianca looked back at the hazel eyes. The range of feeling she once adored them for possessing now made her chest ache. They were filled with eagerness and devilish hope. She could practically see the images of glory playing in the chocolate and forest depths. But, at the edges of heroic bravery she was met with pleading. Frances was trying to make her understand. She wanted her to understand.

Bianca couldn't, though. She could not understand any of it.

Maggie rattled on in exasperation. "You are unable to join the army, Frances! They only allow men to. Thank goodness otherwise your inherent stupidity would be the end of you."

Frances ignored her sister. She locked her eyes on Bianca. The corner of her mouth ticked up in a lopsided grin, "Imagine, Bianca. A war hero. I'd ride through town on a big white stallion. I'd arrive at your doorstep as shiny and polished as new silver. I'd regale you with stories about how I conquered the rebels. I'd be like...Lancelot or King Arthur."

Bianca swallowed thickly. Those eyes always made her seem to be unable to get upset with Frances. No matter how worried she got, those eyes and that smile would wash away the anger. She listened to the words being spoken. They dripped with dreams and visions of praise. Of distinction.

Visions of death and horror overtook them in her head.

Bianca blinked as Frances stepped closer to her. She bit her lip as Frances hovered near, "Imagine, Bianca." Her words barely a whisper.

"I can't." Bianca choked out. She took a deep breath and her voice grew stronger, "I cannot imagine that, Frances."

The blonde rocked back on her heels. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "What?"

Bianca shook her head sadly, "It is dangerous, far too dangerous. Please, stop thinking about this. Please."

Frances stared at her for a minute. Her teeth clenched and her eyes scanned the sad brown orbs. Then, her brows dipped down, and she released her jaw, pursing her lips as she nodded softly, "I promise to not speak of it anymore."

Bianca surged up from her seat. She grasped Frances's hand, "Thank you."

Their eyes captured each other and held on with the strength only the two of them possessed together. Frances's eyes softened and tenderness formed around the edges, carefully meandering in and overtaking the other thoughts and feelings still showing. Bianca felt relief sweep through her chest, releasing the stranglehold it held on her heart. She did not know why, but the thought of Frances joining the army scared her more than anything, more than even the knowledge that her brother would soon be at camp.

She silently thanked the heavens for Frances's promise. No matter how it was made or what it meant, Frances never broke a promise to her. Not once in their whole friendship. Bianca grabbed onto the hope and tucked it close to her heart.

There was something stopping her, though.

Something that made the dread flee from her veins but still murk in the pit of her stomach, waiting ruthlessly for its next moment to erupt.

Frances's gaze was fond and gentle.

But, in a tiny spot deep down, Bianca could see the lingering dreams of glory.

Thunder cracked overhead.


	4. Chapter 4

Bianca shifted in her seat, glancing around briefly at her surroundings. The Hayward-Stone place always felt like a place of refuge for her. While she loved her home and her family, at times they could be a bit much. Whether it be her mother's incessant need for gossip and oneupmanship or her brother and sister arguing over who her brother should court and marry, there were times Bianca felt like she needed to get away. The Hayward-Stone house became that place. She felt comfortable there. She was always accepted with grace and happiness whenever she visited. David and Anna adored her and thought of her as family. They appreciated how much she meant to both of their surrogate daughters. Bianca was a great friend to Margaret and Frances. She never once batted an eye when Margaret announced she would rather be like her cousin and study medicine instead of sitting around achieving nothing while waiting for marriage. With Frances, Bianca was able to seemingly understand her and accept her when others couldn't. Bianca accepted and liked the way Frances didn't let others's thoughts dictate what she did or wanted. To Bianca, Frances was one of the bravest people she knew. The rest of the city might think Frances was insane or ignorant for the way she lived life, but Bianca could only smile in pleasure when Frances told her about the latest activity she had tried or showed her something new.

The Hayward-Stone home was a touch smaller than her own. The parlor was cozy and quaint. There was a fireplace, still unlit until winter rolled around, but no family portrait hanging above it. Bianca thought it might have been because it was nearly impossible to get Frances to sit still for that long. The furniture was a bit more worn and faded, but Bianca believed it only added to the comfortableness of it all. Bianca's family had a girl who worked as a maid of sorts every few days and were looking into hiring another to help. David and Anna never hired anyone, and one of the family either served tea when a guest came over or did the chores.

Bianca looked down at the tea cup and saucer balanced in her hand. The liquid was a clear dark amber color. The scent wafted up to her nose, and she breathed in the familiar odor. She carefully lifted the cup to her lips and took a sip before setting it back on the saucer and then both back on the tiny tray. Her eyes wandered over to Maggie who sat in the other chair beside her. Maggie was sipping at her own tea, her eyes glazed over in thought...and worry.

"How are you feeling?" Bianca asked kindly.

Maggie blinked and looked at her. She set her tea down next to Bianca's and sighed sorrowfully, "James is gone."

Bianca nodded, "Joshua went with him. They are both in the same regiment."

Maggie pinched her lips together, "I miss him already. He told me he would return, but I cannot help but be scared for him."

Bianca leaned over and placed a warm hand on her shoulder, "They will both return. They will look out for each other, protect each other. James is a good man. He will learn how to survive."

"I care about him so much, Bianca. I know he is smart and brave. But, I wish he had not left. I wish he was still here...with me." she finished in a whisper.

Bianca squeezed her shoulder, "He will be. Soon. We mustn't fret. James and Joshua will come home, and we will forget this terrible war even happened."

Maggie sniffed and offered her friend a watery smile of thanks, "I do hope you are right, Bianca."

Bianca smiled gently, "Of course I am."

As Maggie turned away to pick her tea back up, the smile on Bianca's face faltered slightly. She did believe everything would be alright. She had to. Her brother and one of her very good friends had gone off to war. The entire city assumed the war would be over within months. They would defeat the south easily. However, there was still a feeling of dread brewing in the pit of Bianca's stomach. It had been there for weeks and weeks now. It had erupted when Frances spoke of following in the two boys' footsteps. The dread had been like a paralyzing glacier of fear in Bianca's body when Frances uttered those horrifying words. But, since then, the fear and dread had receded.

Unfortunately, it had not disappeared.

Maggie took a dainty sip of her steaming beverage, "At least Frances has stopped going on about her foolish idea to join the army. I know my sister has devised some outlandish plans over the years, but to want to fight in battle...sometimes I think she is too much of a dreamer for her own good."

Bianca silently listened, the corners of her lips twitching upward at the mention of the twin. But, they dipped to a frown by the end of the statement. Frances was a dreamer. It was something Bianca found so fascinating about her. Where Maggie excelled in medicine and logical factual thought, Frances was a dreamer at heart. She was a poet, a romantic. Bianca knew that was what led to her visions of glory concerning the war. It was the first time Bianca ever thought Frances's dreaming was too much for her own good.

The fact that Frances had stopped talking about the army was a relief to Bianca. She had never been more frightened than when Frances expounded on her dreams of dashing heroism. Now, Frances never mentioned it. Yes, she would show interest in the latest news or rumors surrounding the war, but she did not say anything about joining.

Bianca could not get the image of excitement in Frances's hazel orbs out of her head, though.

"Where is Frances today?" Bianca peered around the room.

"I do not know." Maggie shrugged, a flicker of exasperation mingling in her words. "She left before breakfast and has not been back since. She did not even tell us where she was going...or that she was going at all!"

Bianca bit her bottom lip. She had been rather hoping to catch even just a glimpse of the girl. She made the visit to support Maggie, but she could not remember going a day without seeing Frances in some form since they were small children. When she woke up in the morning, it was a quiet comfort to know she would be seeing Frances that day. Her stomach churned at the idea of not seeing her. Where could she have gone? And without telling anyone?

"I hate when she does this." Maggie exhaled loudly. "With James being gone now..."

Bianca clasped her hands together in her lap, "Frances will be home soon. She more than likely went out on one of her crazy plans or went to find one of those quiet spots she likes to go to think at."

"You are probably right, but she still should have told someone."

"She has done this before."

"And I said the same thing then."

Bianca felt her hands tighten, but she didn't let Maggie see it. The feeling of dread was bubbling again, but she tampered it down. Frances was likely only staring up at the clouds with her imagination running rampant or some such thing. The trickle of worry that started to seep into her bones was unwarranted. She could not stop it, though. Instead, she put a smile on her face and turned to Maggie, "She will be fine. How are David and Anna?"

Maggie opened her mouth, but before she could answer, the front door swung open. Both girls turned to see Frances march in, her head bent and the bonnet on her head covering her face from view. The girl closed the door and spun around, pausing as she caught sight of her sister and Bianca. She tilted her head and appraised the situation, "Hello Maggie, Ms. Bianca." She sent a charming grin toward the brunette.

"Where have you been?" Maggie stood up, exasperation coating her question.

Bianca let her eyes focus on Frances. A wave of relief washed over her at the sight. Her mouth turned up and her heart skipped a beat. She watched Frances take off her traveling cloak and set down a rather heavy looking canvas bag that she had been carrying in one hand. Frances walked toward them, her hands swinging at her sides.

"In town." Frances responded to her twin. She strolled into the room and looked around. "Tea, Maggie? Again?"

Maggie folded her arms, "Bianca came over to visit."

Frances nodded, not looking at the younger girl. "You should take a walk outside. It's a beautiful day."

Bianca frowned. Why was Frances turning her back to her?

Maggie glared at her sister, "Be that as it may, you should have told us you were leaving this morning. Neither I nor David nor Anna knew what had become of you."

Frances waved a hand and moved toward the fireplace. She plucked the newspaper that was hanging precariously from the mantle above it and scanned the front page, "Do not worry so much, Maggie."

Maggie sighed, "How can I not with you as my sister?"

Frances shot her a playful smirk, "Very astute observation, Ms. Stone." She looked back at the newspaper and began to read, "They are saying the war will still only last three months at most."

Maggie's arms folded closer to her body, "Yes, they are."

"People are saying it is taking the government too long to confront the south. It is nearly the end of July and nothing has happened yet."

"Hopefully nothing will." Maggie muttered.

Frances looked up from the newspaper at her sister. She folded the paper and set it back on the mantle before stepping over to her, "How are you?" she lowered her voice. "With James and all?"

Maggie pursed her lips, "The same as yesterday."

Frances nodded and patted her arm, "He will be back. All of them will. Except he'll be wearing a shiny new uniform you can admire when he does. It will make you swoon all the more."

Bianca watched the exchange. Frances gave Maggie another comforting pat before going back to the mantle and picking the newspaper back up. Bianca watched as Frances's eyes took in each printed word, relishing in every sentence with unmatched vigor. There was something in those eyes, in the way Frances's mouth would twitched and the tone of her words when she mentioned General-In-Chief Winfield Scott and the number of men who had volunteered for service.

Then, it struck her. Frances was wearing a bonnet. Frances never wore bonnets. It was another point of contention between the blonde and the rest of society. Frances hated the piece of clothing. Why was she wearing one today? Why hadn't she taken it off when she arrived home?

The questions swirled in Bianca's mind, and the dread only bubbled up further. Something was not right. She had known Frances long enough to see something was off. Frances might not be looking at her, which was strange unto itself, but there was more. Bianca caught glimpses of the spark in her eyes as she spoke of confronting the rebels. There were clues to a mystery Bianca had yet to identify in the way Frances moved.

"Where were you?" Bianca asked quietly.

Frances tensed at the murmured question. She didn't look at Bianca, keeping her eyes firmly on the printed page in her hands, "In town."

Bianca clamped her bottom lip between her teeth to stop it from trembling. The feeling of something being terribly wrong raced through her. "What did you do?"

Frances did not say anything for a long minute. Then, "I went into town."

Bianca breathed in deeply, trying desperately to control the emotions raging inside of her. She stared at Frances with pleading eyes, "Please, Frances."

Frances turned her head away from Bianca and stared at the empty fireplace for a few minutes. Her hands clenched the newspaper in her hands, the ink staining her palms and fingers. Bianca felt the world slipping away as she waited for an answer. The longer the silence went on, the more her chest started to ache. Frances had never kept a secret from her before. She always told Bianca, even when she could not tell anyone else. They did not keep things from each other. It was impossible for them not to confide in the other.

Then, Frances set the newspaper down and faced her. Bianca gasped at the enthusiasm and excitement barely contained in Frances's face and eyes. Frances moved toward her, keeping her eyes on Bianca's. "I did it, Bianca."

Bianca felt her world plummet into oblivion.

"Did what?" Maggie questioned from her spot near her chair.

Frances kept her eyes on Bianca. She carefully reached for the bonnet and untied it, scooping it off of her head. Maggie's eyes widened and she inhaled sharply, "Frances, what have you done?"

Where before there had been long silky blonde locks, her hair was now shorn away. The feathery locks now ended just above her ears, matted down from being hidden under the bonnet for so long.

Frances eagerly explained, "I did it. I volunteered for the cavalry. I pretended to be a man - Franklin Stone - and signed up." arrogance shook in her voice, "It was so simple. The recruiter was happy to have another man sign up, and the doctor only checked to see if I had a serviceable trigger finger before passing me."

Bianca stared at Frances, unable to comprehend what she was hearing. Her entire being froze. It was like the world stopped turning for a minute. She couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't move or hear. She couldn't even think.

"You did what!" Maggie yelled. She glared at her twin, "Frances, you did what?"

Frances reluctantly looked away from Bianca to her sister, "I volunteered for the cavalry, Maggie."

"No, no you did not." Maggie shook her head. "You did no such thing! You are smarter than that!"

"Smarter?" Frances scoffed, "This is the best thing I have ever done. I am joining the army...the cavalry. I will be riding a horse into battle. Picture it, leading a charge on a beautiful steed, defeating the rebels before returning home to you both."

Maggie shouted, "No, Frances! Stop talking like that! What is wrong with you? You cannot even ride a horse. The last time you did you fell off and nearly killed yourself."

"I'll learn how. The army will train me. It can't be too difficult."

"What about David and Anna? What were you going to tell them?"

"I'll tell them I am visiting friends in Boston."

"For how long?" Maggie pointed a shaky finger at her, "This is wrong, Frances. The army doesn't even accept women! You are breaking the law."

"To preserve our country."

"To be some kind of hero!" Maggie screamed. "Is it not enough James went? Now you too?"

Frances sent her a heartfelt look, "I am sorry James left, and I am certain he will return. We both will, Joshua too. This is too big to let pass by. War, Maggie. A chance to..."

"To what? Get yourself killed?"

"to be something amazing." Frances corrected. "To do something truly spectacular."

"This isn't a game, Frances. This isn't one of your plans."

"I know that. It is so much more." Frances gestured excitedly.

Maggie scowled, "I won't let you do this. I will not! I will tell that recruiter who you really are. I'll tell him you are a woman."

"What? No!" Frances's jaw dropped.

"You are not doing this."

Frances shook her head, "If you do that, I'll just go somewhere else and join. You cannot stop me."

Maggie rocked on her heels at the threat, "You are being a fool."

Frances turned away from the angry glare and faced Bianca. She eagerly moved to her, kneeling down beside her chair, "You understand, don't you, Bianca?"

Bianca slowly turned her head to gaze down at Frances. The blonde looked up at her with dream-filled hopeful eyes. They were almost begging her in nature. Begging her to see what she saw. Bianca couldn't, though. She did not understand. She did not see it. She saw a bloody bullet ravaged Frances lying on an unknown cold dark field, dead.

Frances gently touched Bianca's knee, "It will be wonderful. You can tell every person you meet how you are friends with the person who helped to put down the rebels. Imagine me on a horse with a glistening sword and a shining uniform..."

All Bianca could see was the newly cut hair covered in blood on Frances's head. Her chest burned painfully, and the sting of tears pricked her eyes. Her stomach clenched tightly, and a lump formed in her throat.

"You will be so very proud of me. You and David, Maggie, Anna...even your family will be. I could even be one of those famous generals leading the army into battle." Frances continued, painting a gallant picture of glory. "People will cheer my name."

Bianca's face began to crumble, each word like a hurtful dagger to her already breaking heart. She quickly stood up, needing to leave. She could not be there anymore. Not with Frances staring up at her with such wishful eyes, wanting her to understand something she never could. Not with Maggie hovering in the background, already upset with James and now having her sister leaving as well.

Not with the way her heart felt like she was losing the most important thing in the world.

Frances frowned at the abrupt movement, and she swiftly got to her feet as well, "Bianca?"

Bianca wordlessly shook her head. If she opened her mouth, only sobs would come out. She ducked her head, tears starting to fall down her cheeks, and walked toward the door. Frances went after her, reaching for her arm, "Bianca, wait."

Bianca paused at the front door. She tilted her head, offering Frances a short glimpse at the pure devastation and heartbreak on her face. Frances stumbled back at the look, her face dropping at the sight.

Then, without uttering a sound, Bianca left.


	5. Chapter 5

The light mist of rain pattered against the glass panes of the Montgomery home. The droplets trickled down in tiny rivers as the sky grew grey with misery. Bianca stood near the window, peering out into the cold summer day. Her face appeared in the glass, and it seemed as if the tiny specks of water were not rain but her tears, falling mercilessly from her sad brown eyes and cascading down her pale cheeks.

Bianca let out a tired sigh and raised a hand to the window. It was cool to the touch, and her palm tingled at the sensation. Her mind barely recognized the change, however. While her gaze might be fixed on the rain and the mudding road outside, it was not actually seeing it. Instead, her mind was where it had been for days. Where it continued to be no matter the time of day or night.

Her teeth bit down on her bottom lip, the soft fleshing quivering dangerously. How could Frances do such a thing? How could she...run off and join the army? Join the war? Bianca bit down harder, her mouth shaking with each question and the images they produced. She knew Frances let her imagination and heart take over many times. She had always been the one to be guided by the beauty of poetry and song. David had once called her a romantic, seeing the world through the eyes of a dreamer.

Frances's dreams were filled with gallant horses and glory.

Bianca's dreams were filled with blood and death.

She tried to see it like Frances did. She tried so hard. If only she could believe as Frances did, that she would return home a hero and without pain or injury. But, Bianca couldn't. Every time she attempted to think about it, visions of Frances being mangled by a hail of bullets, her body falling to the ground, twisted in pain and suffering would play across her eyes. The charming grin that could always make her smile whenever Frances showed it to her was gone, her lips frozen in death forever unable to recite the poetry she loved to read or tease Maggie about James. That voice would never tenderly say her name. Frances was the only one who ever said her name in such a way.

Bianca closed her eyes for a moment, the sting of tears burning and threatening to fall and join the rain in her reflection. She pressed her lips together and swiftly cupped her hand over them, valiantly fighting to hold in the sob. She would not cry. Not again. She had been weeping so long it was a wonder she had any tears left inside. She hastily stepped away from the window. Her head dropped, and she inhaled deeply, banishing the images of a bleeding Frances from her brain. She couldn't think of them anymore.

As she stepped further away from the window and toward the crackling fireplace, the memory of Frances's declaration stormed into her thoughts without mercy.

"_I did it."_

"_I volunteered for the cavalry."_

Bianca's chest ached as the words rolled around, burning their way like a disease in her body. The burn reached her chest, and it felt like the sun was wrapping its fiery arms around her heart, squeezing until it hurt beyond measure.

"Why Frances?" Bianca whimpered into the quiet. "Why are you doing this?" Her voice cracked, and she breathed in sharply.

A firm knock on the front door echoed in the house, and Bianca glanced toward it. The nightmare of a soldier waiting on the other side to tell her Frances had gotten herself killed flashed across her eyelids, but she quickly blinked and pushed the idea away. Wiping at her watery red eyes, she smoothed out her dress. Her hands quaked with barely concealed emotion as they slid across the scratchy material, and Bianca pulled them away. She clasped them together in front of her. She only needed something to hold on to to quell the shivering...to quell the fear and sadness boiling within her.

Pulling her shoulders back, she slowly made her way to the door. When she reached it and placed her hand on the doorknob, she paused. The image of a soldier passed through her brain again, and she choked out a gasp. Shaking her head, she tampered down the lump in her throat and the painful churn of her belly. Her hand yanked the door open, and she was met by a somewhat cold and wet Stone.

Bianca felt her lungs almost burst as she sucked in mouthfuls of air. Frances?

Then, she got a better look. Those eyes weren't the same ones she had seen filled with so much excitement and vigor. That face was not glowing with prideful ideas of glory and heroism. No, she was seeing sorrowful friendship and a face pinched with grieving acceptance.

"Hello, Bianca." Maggie greeted. The rain fell behind her off the covered porch like a mournful waterfall.

"Maggie," Bianca swallowed thickly. She hesitantly gestured for her to come in, "step inside."

Maggie walked in, brushing the water from her face and clothing. Bianca shut the door and spun around walking past Maggie and toward the kitchen, "W-What are you doing here? I will make you some tea, you must be cold from the rain."

"It is rather cold out." Maggie nodded. She watched Bianca, "Miserable even."

Bianca didn't turn around, keeping her gaze forward. This might not be Frances, but even the reminder of her features caused Bianca's heart to plummet. "Yes."

"Much like my sister has been."

The sentence hung in the air. It reverberated across each nook and cranny, filling the tiny cracks and shooting into Bianca's chest. Her steps faltered and she grabbed for the wall to steady herself.

"Bianca," Maggie began.

"No, I do not want to hear it." her heart felt like an invisible hand had fisted around it and was viciously trying to tear it from her chest.

Maggie sighed behind her, "I know you are angry with her. I am too. Furious."

"Angry?" Bianca's voice was muffled with emotion. "She..." her voice trailed off, unable to finish. She joined the army. She signed her own death certificate.

"Yes, angry." Maggie said.

She was angry. She wanted to yell at Frances, shake her until she saw reason. Until she said she would not leave. But, her anger was nothing compared to the gut-wrenching pain that came with Frances being gone.

Maggie's voice was nearer now, having taken a step closer to the brunette, "I am just as angry as you are at Frances. I have yelled at her. I have scolded her. I have said everything I can think of to change her mind. She hasn't."

The invisible hand tore harder at her heart.

Maggie sighed, "I might be angry with my sister, but I also do not like to see her upset, even if she has made me so with her choices."

Upset?

"Frances is terribly upset, Bianca. She is devastated. I know you are angry. I understand. But please, you have not spoke to Frances since that day. She has not seen you."

Her stomach clenched and her mouth turned down at the thought of Frances being upset.

"Bianca, please, I am asking you, begging you as a friend and as a sister, speak to Frances. She will be leaving soon, and she is nearly inconsolable because she believes you will never forgive her."

Bianca swiped at her eyes and turned around, finally facing Maggie. She clenched her jaw tightly and her words trembled, "She never should have done this, Maggie."

"I know. But, she has."

Bianca ran a hand through her thick dark brown locks, tangling her fingers in frustration and hurt, "Why won't she change her mind? Why does she have to do this?"

"She believes she will become some glorious hero."

That was something Bianca both knew and feared. She ripped her hand from her hair and clenched it into a fist, "I can't."

Maggie narrowed her eyes, "Can't?"

Bianca looked down at the floor, "I cannot see Frances."

"Why ever not? She is leaving soon, Bianca!"

"I know that!" Bianca spat out. She inhaled and lowered her voice to a whisper, "I know that." Her body wanted to see Frances. It craved to. She had never gone this long without seeing the other girl. She had never gone at all without seeing her. This past week had been torture. Her hands begged to touch that tanned skin, to feel the delicate wrist or strong fingers. Her eyes pleaded to see that lopsided smirk. Her ears wailed to hear that playful voice.

But, her mind presented her with visions she could not shake. Images of death and gore that would only amplify with the sight of Frances. No, she could not see her. If she did, she would be overcome with despair and terror.

"Bianca, please." Maggie said. "Do not let your anger at her be the last thing the two of you have."

Bianca peered up at her, the heartbreak in her tone palpable, "I can't."

For her own sanity.

* * *

The rain had slowed and finally came to a stop as the sun set behind the fading horizon. Bianca lay in bed, huddled under the quilts and blankets. The rest of her family was asleep, tired from their long days and hoping to get some rest before the next. Bianca, however, could not sleep. She could barely close her eyes. Her mind was spinning, its nonstop energy keeping her awake long after the moon had risen high into the sky and the last candle light flickered and snuffed out.

She gazed at the streak of white moonlight that ventured through her window and spread across her floor. The beam was a small comfort in her raging battle of emotions and thoughts currently being waged in her heart and mind.

Maggie had left empty handed. Bianca refused to see Frances. What Maggie was unable to understand was how much the idea of seeing Frances again both exhilarated and condemned Bianca. The seventeen year old had once believed that nothing had the ability to keep her from Frances, and the same held true for Frances. Nothing had the power to keep them apart. They were the best of friends. Bianca needed her in her life. Oh, how she needed her. She needed it like air. Her lungs begged to breathe, somehow not able to gain the life-giving substance they craved each and every day since she had silently stumbled away from the Hayward-Stone home. The very inkling of the idea that she would never see Frances again caused ice colder than any the north had ever experienced to coat her entire body and chill her all the way down to her soul.

But, how could she look at Frances and not think of the horrible things that were such a possibility now? How could she not imagine blood and tears? Pain and suffering? The light in those luminous eyes flickering out and extinguishing forever? How could she dull the pain and aching that resided in her very being?

Bianca turned onto her side and clutched at the pillow, pulling it further under her head and to her shoulder. Of Frances and Maggie, Frances had always been the one she was drawn to the most. She was wonderful friends with Maggie. Truly wonderful. But, with Frances, it was different. She soared at the way the twin would surprise her with delightful plans and subterfuge. It tickled her the way Frances would always have a joke or lighthearted teasing. The way Frances did not seem to worry about what others thought, even going so far as to outright defy conventional wisdom, made Bianca feel stronger somehow. No matter what, if she was with Frances, everything would be fine. They would be fine. Frances inevitably would have a plan to fix even the most ardent worry. Bianca might worry about her a lot, but Frances without fail returned to her, grinning and coaxing her into a laugh and happiness.

Frances had never really found her place in the world. It was no secret she was searching for purpose, for what she was meant to become. Maggie had her medicine and James. But, Frances did not have such a clear cut path. Bianca supported her in all her searchings and discoveries. To be honest, Bianca always imagined her becoming a poet of sorts, traveling around and reciting Shakespeare and others to whoever would listen. She even, at times, imagined herself at Frances's side, watching with pride as her friend entertained the masses before they would depart and be alone, just the two of them enjoying life and the world.

Oh, how she had envisioned that so many times. Just as she now clung to the memories of them together. Frances, dangling from a tree branch, securing herself a hidden resting place among the leaves and sunlight. As the blonde laid along a thick branch, she would reach for Bianca, ushering her up to be alongside her. She would read from one of her books of poems, and they would gaze up through the leaves and watch the clouds roll by. Or, Frances and her would be at one of the parties the city elite held. Frances would be leaning against the wall, pointing out people to Bianca and regaling her with hilarious antidotes and mocking commentary.

Oh, why did she have to go?

Bianca rolled onto her back again.

Why was this occurring? Why did this have to be the path Frances ultimately chose? Did she not see that Bianca needed her to stay? Did she not see how much this was hurting her? How was Frances able to make a decision that would separate them?

Bianca sniffled and bit her lip. She wished to Providence and the heavens that she would be separated from Frances no more.

A click sounded.

Bianca frowned. What was that?

Another click. Followed by a rapid staccato of tappings. It was coming from the window. Bianca cautiously stood up, the floor cold on the bottoms of her feet. Her nightgown swished at her ankles as she approached the window. There was a pause as the noise stopped for a few seconds, then it picked back up again.

Peeking out into the night, Bianca felt her throat tighten at what she saw. In the blackness there was the outline of a figure. They were short and thin, the darkness of their clothing blending them in to the night air. Bianca blindly reached for a candle, the figure seeming to be so familiar, yet she dared not hope who it could be. She quickly found the metal holder for the wax source of light and lit it. She held the candle up to the window and looked out.

There, two stories below, standing on the small patch of grass and dirt between her house and the next, stood Frances. Her short blonde hair glimmered in the moonlight. Her hands fidgeted with something...the small pebbles she had been tossing at the window. When she looked up from her palm, the next rock ready to be launched at the window, her eyes found Bianca's. Bianca felt her heart soar up to the clouds as she saw those hazel orbs for the first time in a week. Her body hummed and she felt as if wings had grown and lifted her from the ground.

Frances's body seemed to stagger a bit. Her mouth, shining in the moonlight, curved into a relieved ghost of a grin. She dropped the pebbles and waved her hands, gesturing for Bianca to come down. Bianca quickly nodded. She had missed Frances so much. It did not matter that it was late and they should both be asleep. Or that her parents would be upset to hear she was out of the house so late at night, even if it was with that Stone girl. Frances let her arms fall to her sides as she saw the nod and eagerly bounded to the front of the house. Bianca moved away from the window to begin her own trek, when it hit her.

Frances was leaving.

This was not just the two of them venturing out because Frances had come up with some crazy plan to make Bianca smile.

Life was not as it used to be.

Bianca's soaring heart plummeted. She stumbled a few steps, the overwhelming joy she had felt at finally seeing her friend disappearing and being replaced with the overarching fear, sadness, and worry that had been her constant companion for that week.

Frances was there, though.

Frances had come to see her.

Perhaps she had changed her mind and wanted to tell Bianca.

She held on to the idea like a drowning person clutched to a floating piece of wood. Being careful to not wake her family, Bianca crept out of her bedroom and down the hall. She tiptoed down the stairs, being watchful for the one that creaked, before finally arriving at the front door. The candle shook in her hand, the flickering flame casting uneven quirky shadows on the walls and floors. Taking a steadying breath, she opened the door.

It was cool out, the crisp air wet with the recent rain. The chirping of crickets played a peaceful background tune, and the moonlight followed to cast its glimmering glow on the porch.

At the edge of the porch, where the few steps connected the wooden landing from the dirt path that led to the road, Frances stood. Her arms hung at her sides, her hands grasping onto the cloth of her jacket nervously. Her head was bent, and she peered up through her lashes like a puppy waiting to be beckoned to its master's side. Her eyes flashed with happiness when they saw Bianca, but it was shortly replaced with hesitancy and painful hope.

Bianca silently closed the door behind her as she fully stepped out onto the porch. She stopped and stared at Frances, basking in her presence. Her mind threatened to shower her with terrifying thoughts, but the very sight of a healthy Frances, the girl she had always known, banished them forever. She felt a lump form in her throat at the way Frances waited. She had never been so patient, always bouncing up to her with comforting familiarity.

Now, though, she waited.

Bianca swallowed past the lump and waved for Frances to come to her. Frances immediately scrambled up the stairs and to the porch, her eyes never leaving Bianca's. When she was within arms reach, she spoke softly, "Bianca..."

Bianca choked out a watery gasp and breathed out, "Oh, I have missed you."

Frances's eyes lit up and she cautiously stuck out her hand. She touched the pad of her fingers to the delicate pale wrist hanging at Bianca's side. "I missed you as well."

Bianca smiled, "I knew you would change your mind. I knew it."

Frances frowned, "Changed my mind?"

"Yes, about joining the army." Bianca nodded. "To think you would run off and pretend to be a man to fight..."

"Bianca," Frances tilted her head regretfully, "I have not changed my decision. I will not take back my choice."

"W-What?" Bianca stammered. She jerked her wrist away from Frances's touch.

Frances sighed, "I am going to fight."

Bianca opened and closed her mouth, the sparkle of relief she had felt falling away. Her eyes finally dropped from Frances's eyes and she saw it. Frances was dressed in a blue uniform. A military uniform.

"No." Bianca shook her head, "No, no, no." She backed away from Frances, the candle in her hands threatening to tip over, "Do not say that to me. Do not!"

Frances flinched at the harsh tone. She grasped for the candle, taking it from Bianca's hold before she could burn herself. She set it aside and looked back at Bianca who was staring at her with so much fear and anger it knocked the air from her body.

"You cannot do this, Frances. Please, do not do this." Bianca squinted to hold back the tears. "This is wrong."

Frances formed her hands into fists at her side, wanting so much to touch Bianca in comfort but knowing it would not be welcomed. "I have to."

"No, you do not! You do not have to do this, Frances! This is not what you were meant to do." Her voice broke to the shadow of a whimper, "You were not meant to leave me."

Frances lowered her head, the pain in Bianca's voice like a stab to her heart. She shuffled her feet, resisting the urge to weep at her friend's despair, "I...know you are upset with me." Her tone broke Bianca's heart even more with its hesitant earnestness. "I-I know you might never forgive me, though I pray you will." Frances looked up at her, "I cannot stand it when you are upset with me. It is unbearable."

"Oh, Frances." Bianca whispered.

Frances pursed her lips lest her emotions take over, "I have never been able to bear you being upset with me. But, I will not desert. Not from this. I beg that you will someday understand that. Understand this is something I must do." She took a shuddering breath. "You are angry with me, perhaps even hate me. You might never forgive me for this. But, I am leaving tonight to meet with my regiment."

Tonight? Bianca blinked. No. Not tonight. Not this soon.

"I hope while I am away you will allow me to write to you." Frances spoke.

Bianca felt the world crash down on her shoulders. Tonight. Frances was leaving this very night. By morning she would be gone.

And she came to see her.

Bianca folded her arms over her chest protectively and murmured, "I would never forgive you if you didn't."

Frances perked up at that.

Bianca dispelled the tears from her eyes, instinctively knowing how the sight of them would pain her friend. She cast a minuscule smile at Frances, "I want that more than anything, Frances. If you are to...leave...then you must write." If Frances was not to be there with her, Bianca refused to lose her completely.

Frances grinned, "Good, because I planned on writing even if you said no."

Bianca chuckled wetly at the statement.

Frances took a step toward her, "It will be splendid. You'll see." She held out her arms and winked, excitement and pride brewing in her tone, "Now tell me, have you ever seen anyone more dashing than I?"

Bianca let her gaze drop from the sparkling hazel eyes to take in the clothing covering Frances's body. She was in blue. The dark blue wool of her coat contrasted with the light blue of her trousers. The coat had bright yellow braided along the center seam and bottom, her collar as yellow as the morning sun. It ended at her waist, and black boots adorned her feet, riding up to cover her calves. Her plain dark blue sleeves had yellow v's braided near the wrists as well. The combination of blues and yellow was striking.

"Look." Frances moved closer to her. She rubbed her knuckles on one of the glistening brass buttons that lined the yellow braid down the middle of her dark blue coat, "shiny as new silver."

Bianca looked at the button. An eagle, buffed and clean, stared back at her, regal in its disposition. She counted twelve of them, tiny but strong...much like Frances. Along with the eagle there was a marked C.

"It's for cavalry." Frances explained, seeing the question on Bianca's face. She puffed out her chest a little, "I shall be riding into battle."

Bianca pulled back, not wanting to think of Frances exposing herself to war like that.

"I get a sword and a horse." Frances enthused. "I am certain we will be the fiercest cavalry to ever be seen. We'll ride in waving our sabres. The rebels will be so terrified they'll retreat without even firing a shot."

Bianca watched the excitement shine on Frances's face. It was clear that Frances was caught up in the war and what it could be like. Bianca prayed what Frances said was true.

Frances eagerly grasped Bianca's hand, "Imagine, a whole parade of soldiers riding through the city, the drums playing and the fifes singing. The sun illuminating us like a hand from the heavens." She cupped Bianca's hand between both of hers, "I'll come home, and you will be the first person I see. I'll ride right up to your front door. Right there." She nodded over her shoulder at the road. "Just keep watch out that window, and soon you'll see me galloping up."

Bianca listened to the scenario Frances weaved so vividly. Would that be how the future would play out? It sounded so...poetic.

"It will be wonderful, you will see." Frances squeezed her hand. "I will have so many stories of what I've done. I will do so many great things. This entire city will cheer for me."

Bianca curled her fingers, melding them with Frances's. "It sounds lovely."

Frances leaned into her, coaxing her closer, "It will be."

Bianca exhaled and smiled gently, "I must say, I never have seen anyone as dashing as you." Frances did look gallant in the uniform. Not to mention she was rather...sweet in her enthusiasm. Bianca might not agree with this, or even like it, but she found herself gradually unable to not give in, just a little, to the other girl.

Frances beamed with pride, "I am not even wearing my cap or with my horse. Wait until you see me then."

Bianca pressed her lips together and slowly fell forward. Her forehead gently connected with Frances's and she breathed in the other girl, "Frances."

"I will come home." Frances whispered. Her excitement from before slipped away to tender quietness.

Bianca placed her free hand on Frances's face, cupping her cheek. "Promise me you will?" Frances always did as she promised. Always.

"I promise." Frances vowed.

"You will write to me?"

"Everyday." Frances smirked softly, "Remember my name is Franklin now."

"Franklin." Bianca tested the name on her tongue. It left a bitter taste. She much preferred Frances. "You will always be Frances to me. My Frances."

"It will only be for a short while." the blonde said. "Then, I will be back."

Bianca stroked her thumb over Frances's cheekbone, "What am I to do while you are gone?"

"Write to me." cheekily replied Frances. Then she grew serious, "Take care of Maggie. She is absolutely dreadful over James being gone. You both take care of each other, and do not worry about me. Franklin Stone is a rather handsome and brave man."

"It is not him I worry for." Bianca brushed the pad of her thumb down a firm jawbone, "It is for the beautiful headstrong woman before me."

Their eyes met and connected. Bianca's lashes fluttered as her belly tumbled with feeling. They stayed like that for minutes, neither moving lest they break the spell that descended upon them. An unknown spell that neither could name but which had surrounded them for years.

Finally, Frances mumbled, "I must be going."

Bianca tightened their laced fingers and cupped her cheek more firmly, "I do not want to let you go."

"I hope you never will." Frances patted her hand, "I will return soon."

Bianca refused to release her hand, even as Frances started to untangled them, "Not soon enough."

"They say it will be a few months at most." Frances soothed. "A few months and I will be home again."

Bianca reluctantly let their hands unwind, and she dropped both her hands to her sides. She plastered a brave smile on her face as Frances put her thumb under her chin, lifting it so their eyes could meet. "A few months, Bianca. Remember, keep an eye out for a gallant soldier galloping to your door."

"Every minute." Bianca promised.

Frances brushed her thumb over the jut of Bianca's chin, wordlessly memorizing her face. Bianca did the same, casting to memory all the intricacies that made Frances stand out from the rest of the world.

Then, with a sigh, she grabbed Frances's hand and lowered it from her face, "I will miss you."

"I already do." Frances grinned charmingly. She took one last look and turned on her heels, marching across the porch and down the few steps to the path. Bianca watched as she stopped to pick up the few bundled items and pack she had left in the grass. With one final wave, Frances headed down the path, stepping out onto the street and walking off into the darkness.

As the figure got smaller and smaller, Bianca felt the fragile blocks she had constructed burst and the weeping sobs spilled from her lips. She covered her face, the emotions she had been so strongly holding in while speaking with Frances tumbling out like a flooding river crashing through a levee.

She collapsed against the side of the house, falling to her knees as the tears poured down her face, soaking her hands. She stayed there weeping until the sun rose, revealing an empty stretch of road.


End file.
